But I will go.-Go you before me, sırrah; Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [Exit LAUN. Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha? Jes. His words were Farewell, mistress; nothing else. Shy. The patch' is kind enough; but a huge feeder. Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day Do, as I bid you, Shut doors after you: fast bind, fast find; [Exit. crost, [Exit. SCENE VI. The same. Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued. Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo Desir'd us to make stand. Saiar. His hour is almost past. Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock. Salar. O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont, To keep obliged faith unforfeited! Gra. That ever holds: who riseth from a feast, With that keen appetite that he sits down? Where is the horse that doth untread again His tedious measures with the unbated fire That he did pace them first? All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal, The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind!4 How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind! Enter LORENZO. Salar. Here comes Lorenzo ;—more of this hereafter. Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long Not I, but my affairs have made you wait; Jes. Who are you! Tell me for more certainty, Jes. Lorenzo, certain; and my love indeed; For who love I so much? And now who knows, But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? Lor. Heaven, and thy thoughts are witness that thou art. Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains. I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me, For I am much asham'd of my exchange; But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit: For if they could, Cupid himself would blush To see me thus transformed to a boy. Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer. Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames? They in themselves, good sooth, are too, too light. Lor. So are you, sweet, For the close night doth play the run-away, What, art thou come ?-On, gentlemen, away: Ant. Who's there? Gra. Signior Antonio? Ant. Fye, fye, Gratiano! where are all the rest / Tis nine o'clock; our friends all stay for you :No masque to-night: the wind is come about, Bassanio presently will go abroad: I have sent twenty out to seek for you. Gra. I am glad on't; I desire no more delight, Than to be under sail and gone to-night [Exeunt SCENE VII. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House.-Flourish of Cornets. Enter PORTIA, with the Prince of Morocco, and both their Trains. Por. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover The several caskets to this noble prince :Now make your choice. Mor. The first, of gold, who this inscription bears ; Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men desire. The second, silver, which this promise carries ;Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves. This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt; Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath. How shall I know if I do choose the right? Por. The one of them contains my picture prince; If you choose that, then I am yours withal. Mor. Some god direct my judgment! Let me see, I will survey the inscriptions back again: What says this leaden casket? Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath. Must give-For what? for lead? hazard for lead? This casket threatens: Men, that hazard all, A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross Do it in hope of fair advantages: I'll then not give, nor hazard, aught for lead. What says the silver, with her virgin hue? Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves. As much as he deserves ?-Pause there, Morocco If thou be'st rated by thy estimation, And weigh thy value with an even hand: May not extend so far as to the lady; Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough And yet to be afeard of my deserving, Were but a weak disabling of myself. As much as I deserve!-Why, that's the lady: I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes, In graces and in qualities of breeding; But more than these, in love I do deserve. Fair laughs the morn and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm, In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes; Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey." 4 So in Othello: The baudy wind, that kisses all it meets.' 5 A jest arising from the ambiguity of Gentile, which signifies both a heathen and one well born. Salar. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats. Salan. Let good Antonio look he keep his day, Or he shall pay for this. Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house; nour Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times,' Por. Too long a pause for that which you find there. Ar. What is here? The fire seven times tried this; So begone, sir, you are sped. With one fool's head I came to woo, [Exeunt Arragon, and Train. Ner. The ancient saying is no heresy ;- Serv. Where is my lady? To wit, besides commends, and courteous breath, A day in April never came so sweet, ACT III. SCENE I. Venice. A Street. Enter SALANIO and SALARINO. Salan. Now, what news on the Rialto? Salar. Why, yet it lives there uncheck'd, that Antonio hath a ship of rich lading wreck'd on the narrow seas; the Goodwins, I think they call the place; a very dangerous flat, and fatal, where the carcasses of many a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if my gossip report be an honest woman of her word. Salan. I would she were as lying a gossip in that, as ever knapp'd' ginger, or made her neighbours believe she wept for the death of a third husband. But it is true,-without any slips of prolixity, or crossing the plain highway of talk,-that the good Antonio, the honest Antonio,- -O that I had a title good enough to keep his name company :Salar. Come, the full stop. Salan. Ha,-what say'st thou ?-Why the end is, he hath lost a ship. Salar. I would it might prove the end of his losses! Salan. Let me say amen betimes, lest the devil cross my prayer; for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew. Enter SHYLOCK. How now, Shylock? what news among the merchants? Shy. You knew, none so well, none so well as you, of my daughter's flight. Salar. That's certain; I, for my part, knew the tailor that made the wings she flew withal. Salan. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was fledg'd; and then it is the complexion of them all to leave the dam. Shy. She is damn'd for it. Salar. That's certain, if the devil may be her Shy. My own flesh and blood to rebel! upon it, old carrion! rebels it at these years? Shy. I say, my daughter is my flesh and blood. Salar. There is more difference between thy flesh and hers, than between jet and ivory; more between your bloods, than there is between red wine and rhenish:-But tell us, do you hear whether Antonio have had any loss at sea or not? Shy. There I have another bad match: a bankrupt, a prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on the Rialto;-a beggar, that used to come so smug upon the mart:-let him look to his bord: he was wont to call me usurer;-let him look to his bond: he was wont to lend money for a Christian courtesy: -let him look to his bond. Salar. Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his flesh; What's that good for? Shy. To bait fish withal: if it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me, and hindered me of half a million; laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies; and what's his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, or gans, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? if you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you him.-poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? if we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility: revenge; If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by of the i'istoryes of Troye, 1471, has frequent instances of wroth. 5 Salutations. Por. No more, I pray thee; I am half afeard, [Exeunt. 1 The meaning is, how much meanness would be found among the great, and how much greatness among the mean. 2 Know. 3 The poet had forgotten that he who missed Portia' was never to marry any other woman. 4 Wrouth is used in some of the old writers for misfortune and is often spelt like ruth Caxton's Recuyell 6 So in the Merry wives of Windsor: He speaks holiday.' 7 To knap is to break short. The word occurs in the Common Prayer. He knappeth the spear in sunder. We still say "snapp'd short in two.' Christian example? why, revenge. The villany you teach me, I will execute; and it shall go hard, but I will better the instruction. Enter a Servant. Serv. Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his house, and desires to speak with you both. Salar. We have been up and down to seek him. Enter TUBAL. Salan. Here comes another of the tribe; a third cannot be matched, unless the devil himself turn Jew. [Exeunt SALAN. SALAR. and Servant. Shy. How now, Tubal, what news from Genoa? hast thou found my daughter? Tub. I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find her. Shy. Why there, there, there, there! a diamond gone, cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort! The curse never fell upon our nation till now; I never felt it till now:-two thousand ducats in that; and other precious, precious jewels.-I would, my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear! 'would she were hears'd at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin! No news of them ?-Why, so:-and I know not what's spent in the search: Why, thou loss upon loss! the thief gone with so much, and so much to find the thief; and no satisfaction, no revenge: nor no ill luck stirring, but what lights o' my shoulders; no sighs, but o' my breathing; no tears, but o' my shedding. Tub. Yes, other men have ill luck too, Antonio, as I heard in Genoa, Shy. What, what, what? ill luck, ill luck? Tub. hath an argosy cast away, coming from Tripolis. Shy. I thank God, I thank God:-Is it true? is it true? Tub. I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped he wreck. Shy. I thank thee, good Tubal ;-Good news, good news: ha! ha!-Where ! in Genoa? Tub. Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, one night, fourscore ducats. Shy. Thou stick'st a dagger in me :- -I shall ever see my gold again: Fourscore ducats at a sitting! fourscore ducats! Tub. There came divers of Antonio's creditors in my company to Venice, that swear he cannot choose but break. Shy. I am very glad of it; I'll plague him; I'll torture him; I am glad of it. Tub. One of them showed me a ring, that he had of your daughter for a monkey. Shy. Out upon her! Thou torturest me, Tubal: it was my turquoise; I had it of Leah, when I was a bachelor: I would not have given it for a wilderness of monkeys. Tub. But Antonio is certainly undone. Shy. Nay, that's true, that's very true: Go, Tubal, fee me an officer, bespeak him a fortnight before: I will have the heart of him, if he forfeit; for were he out of Venice, I can make what merchandize I will: Go, go, Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue; go, good Tubal; at our synagogue, Tubal. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. I The Turquoise is a well known precious stone found in the veins of the mountains on the confines of Persia to the east. In old times its value was much enhanced by the magic properties attributed to it in common with other precious stones, one of which was that it faded or brightened its hue as the health of the wearer increased or grew less. 2 To be o'erlook'd, forelooked, or eye-bitten, was a term for being bewitched by an evil eye : Hate counsels not in such a quality: Bass. Let me choose: Bass. None, but that ugly treason of mistrust, Por. Away then: I'm lock'd in one of them; 1. Tell me, where is fancy" bred, Let us all ring fancy's knell ; 3 To peize is from peser, Fr. To weigh or balance. 4 Alluding to the opinion which long prevailed, that the swan uttered a plaintive musical sound at the approach of death; there is something so touching in this ancient superstition that one feels loath to be undeceived 5 i. e. dignity of mien. 6 See Ovid. Metamorph. lib. xi. ver. 199. Malone says, Shakspeare had read the account of this adventure in the Old Legend of the Destruction of Troy. 7 Love Bass. So may the outward shows be least them- | A gentle scroll: Fair lady, by your leave: selves; The world is still deceiv'd with ornament.' The scull that bred them, in the sepulchre.' To a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf The seeming truth which cunning times put on Por. How all the other passions fleet to air, What find I here? You that choose not by the view, [Kissing h I come by note, to give, and to receive, Por. You see me, lord Bassanio, where I stand. Such as I am: though, for myself alone, would not be ambitious in my wish, To wish myself much better; yet, for you, A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times That only to stand high on your account, 11 I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends, Bass. Madam, you have bereft me of all words Ner. My lord and lady, it is now our time, That have stood by, and seen our wishes prosper, To cry, good joy; Good joy, my lord, and lady! Gra. My lord Bassanio, and my gentle lady, Bass. With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife. Warburton altered this to plainness, and he has been followed in the modern editions, but the reading of the old copy, which I have restored, is the true one. 9 Counterfeit anciently signified a likeness, a resemblance. 10 i. e. unfurnished with a companion or fellow. 11 The folio reads, Is sum of nothing,' which may probably be the true reading, as it is Portia's intention, in this speech, to undervalué herself. 12 That is, none away from me; none that I shal lose, if you gain it. 13 Pause, delay |